


Sometimes We're Just Aiming for "Okay"

by theraccoonloon



Category: Cats (1998), Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Pretty much everyone is here - Freeform, They're cats in the musical way, forgive me if i get anything wrong, i'll adjust tags and relationships as I write and upload
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28828167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theraccoonloon/pseuds/theraccoonloon
Summary: The thing about the world is it's so much wilder than we imagine. In the fit of that chaos, all we have is what we're determined to hold onto.  Demeter is determined to hold her precious thing with all her strength. It's nice to not do it alone.I needed to write this out because I've been mulling on it for weeks. I hope it isn't too typical and boring, I'm still getting back into writing.
Relationships: Bombalurina & Demeter (Cats), Demeter/Macavity (Cats), Demeter/Munkustrap (Cats), Jennyanydots/Skimbleshanks (Cats), Quaxo & Rum Tum Tugger (Cats), Quaxo & Victoria (Cats)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	1. Meet-cute

Munkustrap considered his best days to be the one’s where nothing new went wrong. Something always went wrong. A kit wandering off and getting lost, any of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer’s regular activities, the occasional fuss over minor injury. The Protector of the Jellicle tribe considered these par for the course. Even preventing Macavity from reigning terror on the Junkyard is something that Munkustrap could conceivably handle.

So when Munkustrap spotted a trembling ball of fur in the distance on his morning patrol, he was optimistic. He called out as he approached, assuming from size alone it was a kit that had gotten out. With every step that brought him closer, it firmly appeared to not be so. Today may be one of those days

Morning light illuminated the gold blossoming from the black fur. Despite its steady rhythm of its trembling, it never made any sort of acknowledgement to Munkustrap. The tom cat smelled her scent on the wind. It was thick and sweet like honey and warm in his nose like spices. He crinkles his nose at the bitterness of fear that weighed heavily on the otherwise lovely scent. A female cat, scared and alone. It tugged at the tom’s heart.

Munkustrap decides to crouch where he is, a few paces away. “Hello, there.” The silver striped tom used his voice typically reserved for kittens. “Are you lost?”

The ball of fur snuffles in response.

“Injured?” Munkustrap probes.

Nothing.

“Do you need help?” He asks softly.

The ball of cat stills. Munkustrap decides that it’s an encouraging sign.

“My home is quite close to here. We could head there, get some food in you, see how we can help.” The cat shifts again. “If you’re injured, I’m sure Jellylorum will be able to get you right in no time at all.” Munkustrap inches himself closer.

The ball of cat shifts her weight, lifting her head from beneath the barrier of her paws. Munkustrap can see the chaos of her fur, ungroomed and dirty, sitting in every direction. He pulls himself closer. Her ears appear first, then her dark eyes, and her black nose, the lower part of her face remains hidden under her paws still. The moment they settled on Munkustrap, he feels as scrutinized as a hunted mouse. 

He clears his throat. “Do you have a name?” He enquires. The cat blinks at him slowly. Munkustrap tilts his head, raising his eyebrows. The cat nods ever-so-slightly. “Unfortunately, I can’t read your mind.” He says with a warm humor.

The cat’s jaw flexes, like it was chewing on the name in its mouth. Her eyes look like she’s trying to determine if Munkustrap even deserved to hear her name. 

“Demeter.” She says softly. Munkustrap can hear the syllables crackle over her vocal chords. The silver tom nods and repeats the name quietly. 

“Well, it is good to meet you Demeter. I am Munkustrap of the Jellicle tribe.” He places a hand on her. “Now, let\s get going sha-”

His sentence is cut off by a flurry of claws and fur and teeth. Demeter bursting into an entity of chaos to fly away from him. Every hair of hers stands on end and she arches her back. Her low hiss fills the air. Munkustrap straightens himself out, What a particular reaction to help, he ought to be more gentler. 

“I’m sorry. I just meant to help you up. Are you-”

Demeter cuts him off again with another low hiss. “Don’t touch me!” She snaps. Munkustrap lowers his head at the admonishment. Suddenly, Demeter makes a wheezing sound like she’s choking. The silver tom looks up at her. One hand covering her mouth as tears flowed freely, chest heaving as she fights against her own sobs.

Munkustrap keeps his eyes off Demeter while she takes the time to throw herself back together in a parody of composure. Her sniffles being the only noise leaking out of her after the sun had risen a few degrees. 

“Shall we go?” He offers quietly after the interval between sniffles had gotten longer. He looks to her at last for an answer. Demeter turns her face away, still willing to spare him a nod in response. 

The nicest part about patrol is the going home part, in Munkustrap’s unuttered opinion. The silver tom pads forward to the Junkyard, sparing a glance to make sure Demeter was making her slow and steady pace behind him. Her footsteps sounded like a ghost, which is to say they sound like nothing at all. He lead her over patches of grass and over towers of garbage. She followed him closely as he went through pipes and tunnels. From his less-than-a-second glances, he could see her struggle to hold herself. Like each step was causing her pain. Munkustrap can only utter “We’re getting close.” to support her.

The kitten’s mews in the afternoon sun ring out before they can enter the camp. He glances again to Demeter. Her ears are twitching, but something in the set of shoulder changes at the mews.

Munkustrap finds the tire entrance to the Junkyard and clears her throat. “Last thing.” He says to Demeter, trying to sound assuring. He dips into it first himself. 

Munkustrap considers it a feat of athleticism as all the kit’s converge on him like heat-seeking missiles. The tom-kits smashing into his knees, the queen-kit’s climbing his legs. Jennyanydots follows behind, fussing, her voice a non-stop stream of lecture about properly greeting some and not “trying to kill the poor cat.”

“It’s fine, Jenny.” He says, making sure to give each Kit demanding attention a little pet and a greeting. 

“It is very much not fine.” Jenny responds, curtly. “If they’re unruly now, they’ll be unruly later.” She grabs a few of the tom-kits at his feet and pulls them away from him. “Leave the poor man alone.”

Alonzo drifts down from where he was sunning himself on a tire. “Long patrol this morning, anything wrong?” His second-in-command asks. Munkustrap greets his friend warmly.

“Well, I do have someone for you guy’s to meet.” He looks to the tires he entered through. The queen hadn’t followed him. “One moment.” Munkustrap quickly climbs back into the entrance.

Inside, Demeter sits. Face buried in her paws and trembling breaths echoing on the rubber. She looked so small. Demeter looked like if she could pull herself into a small enough ball that she vanishes from existence, she would. Munkustrap inches himself close to her, settling on his haunches.

“I promise, whatever you’re afraid of. It isn’t there.” He says softly.

Demeter gives something like a nod and breathes out shakily. “How do I know that there isn’t hell on the other side?”

“Hell?”

“Hell.”

Well, that was certainly a new question for Munku. “Well, I suppose hell would be much louder and smellier.”

Demeter stops and looks at him.

“Well, I just mean,” Munkustrap, the great storyteller, was fumbling around for words. “If it was a bad place. We would smell fear, pain, and anger, wouldn’t we? And the only screams I hear are Tumblebruus and Electra chasing each other and squealing.” 

Demeter continues to stare, before shifting her weight enough to rise. Munkustrap gives her a smile and leads her out. Hope warm in his heart that when Demeter enters the afternoon sun of the junkyard that she’d find a measure of peace.

Jenny and Alonzo are still waiting on the other side. Tantomile and Coricopat were perched on the nearest mountain of boxes and Jellylorum had joined Jenny and Alonzo. Munkustrap straightens himself up, patting off his fur. He turns to the tire and watches Demeter crawl out. 

Being Protector of the tribe gave him reason to feel proud whenever he showed off his home. The familiar pride warmed in his chest as Demeter looked around, taking in the whole Junkyard, eyes flitting over cats and kittens. There weren’t many about, most of them dispersing for their daily activities by noon. Her posture remains defensive, but it doesn’t seem particularly intense. The Queen doesn’t even pull herself up to her full height, staying low and looking.

He gives her a moment to settle in. Clearing his throat to bring the cat’s eyes back onto him. “This is Demeter. I don’t know much about her, but she does need help.” The cats in front of him spare another glance at her. “She’s not dangerous, just scared. She must’ve been through something awful.”

For Jellylorum and Jennyanydots, that was explanation enough. Demeter also probably has the advantage of having the physique of a skittish kit, Munku thinks to himself. She was definitely grown, but the way each bump on her spine is articulated, she was underfed. 

The Queens walk up to Demeter. “Oh, dear. Look at you. We should get something in you, get you cleaned up.” They begin muttering little worries around Demeter. 

Jenny puts a motherly hand on her arm. “A pretty young thing like you will be feeling better in no time.” Munkustrap stiffens, waiting for the cat to burst into a ball of chaos. Instead, she doesn’t. She leans into the touch, slightly. 

“That would be nice.” She says, voice barely above a whisper. The Queens make some clucks and awes, purring over her acceptance. Demeter looks at Munkustrap. They hold eyes for a second. And, in a moment Munkustrap could convince himself was hallucinated, she spares him a sweet smile.

It doesn’t last long as the older Queens begin tugging her away. Filling the air with chatter as they told Demeter every single thought they had about the Jellicle Tribe. The silver tom doesn’t hear another word from her as she is pulled towards a den. Kits being shooed away as they approach the threesome. Munkustrap let out a breath, everything would be fine. Just another cat that the Jellicles will assist. He could trust that he and his tribe could do that much.

“Poor girl.” Alonzo says, The black and white cat studying her as she walked away. “Where’d you find her? Any clues as to what happened?”

Munkustrap shakes his head. “She was curled up at the edge of our territory. A couple tail lengths outside. Nothing looked odd. She must’ve been chased by some pollicles.”

Alonzo lets out a hum. He points at his neck. “She’s got a collar.”

“I guess some set of humans will be missing their cat for a bit then.”

“Munku.” Comes from a soft voice sitting at his feet. Quaxo was looking at him, eyes curious, as his sister made her way between the silver tom’s feet. The white cat purring as soon as they touch.

“Hello Quaxo.” He gives the tuxedo cat a quick pat before bending down further to give Victoria some attention. Her purring rumbling louder as a pleased look forms on her face. She licks his ankles and his palms when they get close enough. Victoria’s typical greeting for those she likes.

“Hello, Munkustrap.” Quaxo leans back where he sits to look at the older tom better. “Who is that?” He asks. Victoria bumps her head against his leg.

“A new friend.”

“Victoria wants to say hi, but I think she smells gross.” Quaxo’s tone meant he didn’t mean to be rude but, still.

“Quaxo. That’s rude.” Alonzo says behind a chuckle.

Munkustrap can’t help but look at the tom-kit closer. “Sometimes when cats need help the most, it’s difficult. That means that sometimes it’s a little gross.”

“Like Pouncival when he swims in garbage?” Quaxo offers.

“Exactly like Pouncival.” Alonzo says, fighting another laugh.

And this was enough for everything to be okay in the tom-kit’s mind. He bumped his face against his sister’s and, with a last lick, they walk away together. 

Alonzo claps Munkustrap on the shoulder. “Well job, Munk. Another crisis averted.” With that the black and white cat slinks off on his own way. Probably off to search for his mate.

And Munkustrap, as he stretches in the last of the noon shine, hopes his second was right.


	2. Unsettled Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think the best part of writing is setting everything up before knocking it over.

Everything was not alright. 

Nothing good happens when there are voices outside his den at night. Nothing good comes when he hears a pair of cockney accents. Both at the same time truly must mean the end times. He takes a moment to stretch and gather himself.

“You fink ‘e’s gonna listen to us?” Rumpleteazer's voice is what he understands first.

“Well, we right, aint we?” Mungojerrie voice faithfully responds.

Munkustrap takes the opportunity to stick his head out, startling the two when he speaks. “Listen to you about what? What did you do?”

“Nufin’ sir.” Teazer speaks first, Jerrie cuts in.

“What do ya fink you’re doin’ with that Queen in the med den?”

Munkustrap’s tired eyes naturally glare. “What were you doing in the med den?”

Jerrie let’s out a noise of frustration “Not the point, Boss. She shouldn’t be ‘ere.” His voice sounds actually serious for once. “You need to get ‘er outta ‘ere quick.”

Munk rubs his forehead “And why, pray tell, do I need to do that?” 

“She’s one of ‘is.” Jerrie says with urgency. “I’d know ‘at Queen anywhere.”

“Probably a trap.” Teazer offers.

“Who’s trap?” Munk’s tried brain feels like the cockney voices were like cement in the gears at this hour.

“Macavity.” The couple of cats whisper in unison.

Stilling, Munkustrap look them over. “Are you playing a joke? If this is a prank, we will have a problem.” They shake their heads. “An agent of Macavity? That starved little thing probably couldn’t hunt a mouse. Are you sure?”

“She’s ‘is mate.” Mungojerrie offers the information like proof.

“One of ‘em anyways.” Teazer adds with a laugh.

Munkustrap sighs. “I will deal with this in the morning. Just go to bed. Don’t tell anyone. I’m dealing with this.” The pair of them just stare back with their bright eyes. “Go, please.” They share a look and run off. The silver tom watches them until the tips of the tails vanish inside their den. He permits himself a groan when he slides back into his own.

Macavity’s mate. The tom had almost figured that the criminal was too busy scheming to have relationships. It was more in character for his former brother than the rumoured harem of women. What the hell does he know? It’s been a long time since they’ve shared words beyond growls and threats.

Macavity’s mate is here. He builds on the first thought in his mind. What could that mean? A spy? An inside man? But why would a spy be so frail, starved, worn down Queen? Somecat in such visible pain and disrepair clearly has something to run from, a reason to seek shelter.

Mungojerrie had rejoined them in similar condition. Munkustrap can still clearly picture the image of the orange striped tom, limping back into the Junkyard, Rumpleteazer all over him like the second she let go he would disappear. They took him back in, then.

Surely taking in Demeter would be no problem.

He halts himself at that. He had gotten ahead of himself. He rubs his head and paces in a circle, setting himself up to go back to sleep. He’ll just speak to Demeter, and then decide what to do. A chance to give their own case was owed to any cat. He yawns in the few beams of moonlight from the crescent moon. 

For now, rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“IF YOU FINK YOU CAN COME IN “ERE AND TRY TO HURT OUR FAMILY THEN YOU GOT ANOTHER TING COMIN””

Munkustrap’s eyes burst open at the cockney yelling. He was quickly developing the opinion that it was one of the sounds he liked the least to hear outside his den. He looks around. It wasn’t even late in the morning.

He pulls himself to his feet and bursts outside, taking everything without slowing his pace. It was easy to find the source as every cat seems to drift towards it as well. Anyone who had woken up early to eat. Every kit that had unlucky parents was awoken and leaping towards the yelling. Even Tantomile and Coricopat were somewhere high and watching with interest.

“You two settle down, right now! That is a guest!” Jenny’s voice rang high and clear.

Munkustrap puffs himself up as he turns the corner to the clearing and gets ready to enter the stage of the argument. In the center of the circle of cats was Teazer and Jerrie, each one clutching onto a kitten. Victoria and Quaxo fussing in their arms. Demeter who sat across from them, kneeling with her lowered head. Jenny was already heading on over, placing a hand on Demeter while she shouts at the duo.

“You can’t trust ‘er with the kittens.” Teazer says with a glare.

“We’re just trynna make sure nothin’ ‘appens to the little’uns.” Jerrie follows up with a nod.

“And who, in the name of the Everlasting Cat, gave you permission to make that decision?” Munk says lowly, walking between them and Demeter. “I thought I told you to leave it alone.”

“But she-” Jerrie starts.

“Nope.” Munk cuts him off.

“We just-” Teazer tries again.

“Definitely not.” Munk cuts her off. 

“Munk!” The pair whine.

“I don’t want to hear it. Put down the kittens and go to your den. Just go away for a bit.” Munkustrap dismisses them. He can see them share a look like they’re about to be up to something. He cuts them off before their eyes can communicate a full thought. “Bup-bup-bup. Get out of here first, you two.”

The pair put the kits down and slowly step away from them. They looked like this was a movement they’ve done together before when they pivot and run off in unison. Some cats and kits bat at them as they pass during their practiced scramble.

The kits are already making their way over to Demeter and Jenny by the time Munk turns around. Quaxo and Victoria cuddling up with the two queens. The half eaten mice were remembered and began to be eaten once more. Demeter sat up straight, letting out slow calming breaths. Jenny was smoothing her fur and grumbling about “Those two rascals” to her.

“I’m sorry about that.” Munkustrap gives the queen a short bow in apology. 

Demeter visibly swallows and shakes her head. “It’s fine. It’s nice to see how much all the cats care about the kittens.” She says, almost sincere enough to cover her startled posture.. 

“Were they rough? What did the two of them do?”

Jenny tsks and cuts in. “They entered the clearing and snatched the kits away from her they second they saw her. Pulled the little ones away by their paws.”

“I’m fine.” Demeter assures. Something about it rings hollow to Munkustrap’s ears. He gives her another nod. 

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to speak with you later.” He asks, using his Protector voice. Professional business. 

Demeter nods. “O-of course.” Munk looks satisfied and starts to head away, wanting something to eat himself. “Thank you.” She quickly gets her words out before he gets too far. 

Munk gives her another short bow and a proud smile. “Always honored to help.”

Electra and Etcetera follow him underfoot, asking to eat with him this morning. They chatter away asking questions about why cans are metal or when Tugger is coming to visit. He tries to keep up with their questions, a welcomed distraction for now.

He gathers up two mice for the three of them from the stockpile and helps them onto the trunk of the TSE-01. The kits ask him questions through mouthfuls of mouse. Etcetera nuzzling into his side to eat the mouse and Electra close against her. The former watchers of the incident seem to be moving the same. Alonzo and Cassandra taking up to eat together. Pouncival and Tumblebrutus made it halfway to breakfast before they started wrestling. 

He considers it an improvement for them. With a glance, he can see Demeter, still with the monochrome siblings. Victoria sat between her legs and Quaxo was close next to her. The three of them ate together, peacefully. Munk couldn’t imagine a quieter trio. 

“Where does the sun go? How does it know to come back?” Etcetera asks with her mouth full.

“What?” Munk is snapped back into the kit’s line of questioning. “Oh, it goes away to sleep and comes back because it misses us so much.” He answers quickly. Hopefully, she wasn’t going to see through the fast thought.

The kit blinks, nods, and goes back to eating. Munk decides to start eating himself. Everlasting Cat knows he’ll need the energy. A regular day plus whatever is going to happen with Demeter. Maybe, everything will go smoothly. What a delightful and naive thought. He’s barely halfway done when the girls leave him at the beckoning of the other tom-kits wanting to play. Watching them scamper away, bounding over each other with excitement. At least they finished their mouse first. He gathers up their abandoned scraps and makes them into a neat pile with the leftovers from his own meal. Asparagus should be back from his rounds of patrol soon, Munk thinks, taking note of the sun. 

The silver tom is cleaning his paws when Tantomile and Corciopat appear. They just stare at him. The least playful kits on the entire Junkyard. The twins were always together and rarely had much to say. Munk considered it pretty uncharacteristic of the pair to appear so close to stare.

“Is there something I can help you with?” He asks them, pulling himself to the edge of the trunk to look at them closer. The pair continue to watch him with their big eyes. Then, in unspoken sync, they turn and go away. Barely even a movement to acknowledge Munk. The Jellicle Protector accepts the twins’ strangeness as just another one of their quirks and goes back to his grooming.

Under the sunlight, he stretches and thinks. His mind wandering off to this coming year’s Jellicle Ball and the songs they’ll be performing. Perhaps, Old Deuteronomy has something in particular in mind this year. The thought of the Ball is far enough away that the concept does give him the kind of stress that the annual herding of cats tends to create. 

“Hello Munkustrap?” A low voice calls. He looks around for the queen where the voice had come from. He rises to his feet and climbs down from the TSE-01. Demeter sits. Her fur was much tamer and the way the sunlight reflected off the gold in her coat made her look otherworldly. Like some of the light in the junkyard was coming off of her. Her eyes follow him with a sharp look. Every lift of a foot or swish of his tail scrutinized. 

“Demeter! I’m so glad you came by!” Munk greets. “Shall we find somewhere to speak in private?” He offers, Demeter nods and slowly gets up to follow him. Munkustrap steps off, holding professionalism in his posture, leading Demeter to an unoccupied box nearby. The queen gives him a confused look when he stops outside and offers for her to enter the box first. Well, if he was being honest, it was more suspicious than confused.

He dips his head. A submissive posture wasn’t a weight on his pride. If the lowering of eyes and exposing of the neck was what was needed to get Demeter in then it was just another duty. In return, she runs her hands along the ground pensively. She operates at her own pace. The sound of the shifting box as she enters prompts Munkustrap to follow as well. The way she settles into the darkness almost pulls the certainty from his steps. The black of her coat seemed to devour the light hungrily. Leaving just the shifting gold and her bright yellow eyes visible.

Once, Bustopher Jones had used the word “Roscuro” to describe a painting he saw at one of the clubs. He wasn’t able to explain the word better to Quaxo then “light and darkness in harmony,” but Munkustrap felt like he understood now. The definition in front him must be for that word. He sits away, wrapping his tail around his feet. He permitted himself a moment to savour the beauty in front of him before he got to business.

“Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer came to my den last night. They said they recognized you.” Mungo pauses, all he gets is a slow blink back. “May we start with how you got where I found you? If you’re comfortable with that, of course.” 

“I didn’t know you had Macavity’s henchcats here. We both have questions.” Demeter keeps her voice low but the dry tone reaches him.

“Former.” He corrects, defending a member of his tribe from the suggested accusation. “Nobody who works for Macavity is allowed in our walls.” The threat is crystal clear. “But, we do understand the sway he holds over some cats.” He extends a limb towards Demeter to offer some physical comfort at the topic. Definitely not because his paws naturally drifted towards her.

She pulls herself away, further into the dark. Her fangs flash at him. “Isn’t that enough to know for you? Clearly, you understand my situation enough.” Demeter snaps at him, voice cold and full of sharp bite.

Munk pulls his traitorous wandering limbs back in, “So Mungojerrie was correct in saying you were, uh, associated with Macavity?” Demeter, eyes sharp and tight on her haunches looks like an accusation in response to his half-hearted question. It pulls more not-thought-through-enough words out. “As his, uh, mate?”

The question is entirely professional, even if that was definitely not how he planned to ask.

“Mate?” She echoes back. “Mate.” She repeats again, some sort of anger hot in her mouth the second time around. “Is that all this conversation is about? Whether or not I’m mated? Are you trying to determine my worth, Jellicle Protector.” It’s a rumble that slithers towards him, the open revulsion in her tone.

“No! No! Definitely not, I swear I just needed to know if Macavity is going to come looking for you. He never came back for Mungojerrie, but I assumed.” He bites his own tongue. He snaps his pace into a halt and speaks slowly. “I just wanted to make sure I understood the situation enough to properly aid you.”

Demeter pulls herself up to her feet quite quickly. “Don’t worry about helping me, Great Protector.” She says the title like a taunt. “I’ll be gone before you know it. I have somewhere to go.” She slinks past him and out the box with a few steady strides. 

Munkustrap takes a moment to decide whether or not that went well. As long as he kept things calm until she could leave, it’ll be another problem solved cleanly. Of course it wouldn’t be easy, but if it was then anycat could take care of the Junkyard.

He exits the box himself and starts on his everyday To-Do list. The show must go on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Demeter made her way to the medical den she was sleeping in. She definitely would never say that the Junkyard that pesky silver tom is so proud of is actually pretty nice out loud. The only problem she could find, in fact, was that slimy feeling of being watched.

She curled up on her blanket and began parting her fur, finding the healing wounds under the fluff to lick at them. Her body ached in a way that she never noticed before. The pain was so heavy sometimes that she felt trapped by it. She adjusts her position to be a little more comfortable. Soon, she’ll feel good enough to go find her sister and everything will be okay again.

“It’ll all be okay soon. Just wait.” She whispers to an invisible audience before burying her face and closing her eyes. Just a little more sleep and she’ll be well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a review if possible. I don't have an editor so I apologize for the flaws in my writing. I am quite excited now that I've settled on how this story is going to go.
> 
> Have a good day! Feel free to say hi at  
> Acatpersonapparently.tumblr.com


	3. Family Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demeter's POV this time around. I hope y'all don't mind a shifting POV. It's all chronological. It's also a little longer than the first two chapters. I think it's three pages longer in total.

When the kits begin squealing in the distance, Jellylorum leans into Demeter’s ear to whisper an explanation.

“It’s just that pesky little Tugger. You better watch yourself around that tom. No appreciation for boundaries that one.” She chirps as she fusses about the med den. Demeter quite liked the older queen. Both of them, actually. There was something so relaxing about their motherly presences, their endless chatter about nothing at all. Their conversation was shifted by naming cats and whatever gossip they reminded them of. Demeter didn’t have to agree or speak. At most, one of them will stop what they're doing with a huff and beckon her over with a “Would You Be a Dear?” and Demeter would get up, help them (which was never more than holding something for a moment), and then blush under the compliments as she returned back to where she was comfortable. 

They also seemed to understand her desire to be left alone. Occasionally, one of the kits when they’re feeling particularly curious and energetic, will try to swat her tail or leap onto her to wrestle. The two queens were like a castle wall. Always intervening before they get too close. When an adult cat stared at her too long, one of the queens would call out something about them clearly needing something to do if they had time to do nothing at all. Plato and Cassandra both had to talk their ways out of the particular trap.

Cats seemed to be constantly flowing through the Junkyard, sometimes staying, but mostly going. Skimbleshanks, Jenny proudly introducing her husband to Demeter, came by long enough to visit his family and inquire about the latest in the ‘Yard. He was sweet but couldn’t stay long. Exotica passed through, the sleek dark cat respectfully greeting them as she climbed an old bed frame and disappeared out of sight. The pair dubbed Tantomile and Corciopat seemed to be constantly disappearing and reappearing. Demeter ever so often spotting them on the move.

It left Demeter unable to decide if she trusted in the security of the Junkyard. To have so many entrances and exits, Macavity would never. She clenches her jaws, Macavity isn’t here. Regardless, she has no idea how that chatty silver tom considered this place so secure.

Rum Tum Tugger enters the center of the Junkyard with kits swarming at his feet. The kits circle him like affectionate sharks. They nip at him, squealing. Victoria seemed to be weaving herself between his feet like it was nothing much at all. Quaxo stayed pretty close to his heels as Electra and Etcetera searched for new directions to attack the tom from. The whole time Tugger didn’t hesitate. Each step was assured, he was fluffed up and proud. The swagger in his step is bitter to Demeter. The party halts in front of the TSE-01.

“Now, if you want some Tugger Time today, it’s now. I’ve got plans later.” His voice is cool as he leaps up. He stays standing as the different kits make their way up to him. Once Quaxo is up through some struggle, he sits down. They all curl in close. He seemed to have fur enough to cover all of them.

“Tugger! Tugger! Can you come with us to teach us to catch rats?” Electra asks, trying to bump her head against his. Something that Tugger kept his head just a little too high for. 

“Chasing rats already? What talented little ladies. Even I was still learning to chase mice at your age.” Somehow, it still sounded like a boast.

“But Pounce and Tumble said they’ve already learned how and we’re gonna do them one better.” Etcetera explains their plan.

Tugger hummed at that. “Perhaps, little ladies. Those young boys were fibbing.” The she-kits looked like their minds were truly blown by that. “Have you seen them catch a mouse?”

The girls share a look. “We haven’t.”

“There you go. Never forget, girls; Men are liars.” He says cooly. The lesson seemed a tad muffled by the fact that it was coming from that particular tom’s mouth. Demeter felt like she could smell the scent of his cockiness from where she was.

“Now, what has been going on lately? Has my brother been pesky with rules lately?” The maine coon’s question is met with giggles.

“He brought a queen home.” Quaxo offers quietly. The only one with a genuine response.

“My brother? A queen? Were your eyes playing tricks on you?” He reaches out to ruffle Quaxo’s fur on his head as he asks.

“She’s real, but Jenny and Jelly said we can’t play with her. She’s not fun.” Electra is quick to put down a possible love threat.

“Ah.” Tugger says with a nod. Just another charity case then. “What about you, Victoria?” He pokes the white kit with his nose. She looks up at him with a sweet smile from between his front paws and then disappears back into his fur, purring. “Wonderful.”

A shift in the trash on the far side. Demeter watches with rapt attention. Could it? She squints closer as Jelly starts the next part of her diatribe about how rude Tugger was. They creep closer to the car. The kits! Her muscles start coiling as she watches them. A moment before she could fully convince herself to do something, one of them tripped. The whole group quickly ends up in the evening sun. Their grabbing hands a recipe to fall. 

Just tom-kits being tom-kits.

Demeter looks away, relaxing. Jelly looks at her companion with worry. She pulls Demeter’s face into her hands. The golden queen does her best to resist the way it makes her insides coil. Her chest flutters like a bird storming its cage. She tries to give a soft purr until the phantom taste of metal leaves her mouth. There were worse things. Jelly was so kind, it’s easier to deal with it.

“It’s alright, love. If he starts pestering you, Jenny and I will shoo him off in no time at all.” Jelly promises her kindly. Letting go of her face, she rubs her hands up and down Demeter’s arms; she stops to hold their hands together. “You are awful cold, dear. Such a thin thing like you must struggle to keep warm. It must be difficult going through so much all at once. Let me see if I can’t find something nicer to line your bed with. Jenny probably has something warm to eat.”

The older queen is quickly off, humming and muttering as she goes. Demeter paces herself into circles when she feels alone enough. The energy in her body demands some form of motion. The sensation of being alive that movement brings. They didn’t need to do so much. Demeter would’ve been happy with a towel and a stick. It was like leaving the ice cold to a warm fire. It made her fur itch. Every helpful gesture from the old queens. Victoria and Quaxo approaching her sweetly and slowly, asking to say hi with the kind of gentle eagerness. Munkustrap’s eyes always watching her with an agitating amount of carefulness.

Demeter rubs her eyes. It hurts to know you’re the twisted one, she thinks. She starts to curl up. Everyday gestures wouldn’t create an allergic response if she had never-

“Wait, Tugger! Which one of us is saying boo?” The sweet little voice is loud and clear, close.A chorus of kits groan.

“None of us now, sweetheart.” Tugger responds, sticking his head into the den. “Hello, dear. I promise you our prank was going to be stunning,” He says smoothly to her, making his way in as the kits continue to flutter at his feet.

“Electra, you ruined it.” Tumblebrutus sounds exasperated. The brown and white tom-kit giving her a little shove

“Nuh-uh, I was just asking a question. I’m allowed to ask questions! Dad said so.” Electra swats back.

“You still ruined it.” Electra mutters as the kits start exploring the medical den.

“Now, if you break something. I will get very upset with you. Especially if you get caught.” Tugger warns the batch of kittens. Victoria slips out from between his feet and steps happily over to Demeter.

The white kit purrs warmly on approach. Her steps are slow but at a steady pace. Demeter tilts her head. Victoria rubs her face against Demeter’s shoulder and starts pawing at her side. Demeter prepares for the ache, the nerves. But the warmth is just warm, the purring is just calming. She moves her weight a little. The moment that little white kit saw an opportunity, she slips under Demeter’s belly. Her head quickly popped out between Demeter’s paws in front of her. Her clear blue eyes blink up at her and Demeter feels lost. 

She should be panicking. Trying to get away in a fit. Demeter should see the obvious danger of a cat with access to underbelly. There was no cat more reminded in all of London than the danger of an exposed underbelly. 

However she wasn’t. Victoria purring away like one of those car-monsters beneath her made her feel, in a strange and distant way, less lonely. It wasn’t a feeling she was looking for. Perhaps it’s because there was nothing to fear from a small mute kitten. Demeter gives Victoria a little bump. To Victoria, it must be a sign she can settle, because she can feel the white kit shift before stilling into a purr.

Demeter shifts just a little more, wrapping herself around Victoria. It would be a beautiful moment of long awaited peace. If it weren’t for Tugger's grinning mug, of course.

“Haven’t been here two days and yet Victoria likes you that much?” He comments. “You must be some special lady. I am the Rum Tum Tugger.” He introduces himself with a playboy grin.

Demeter looks away. “I’m sure it’s more of a comment on Victoria than me.” She looks at the kit beneath her, seemingly completely oblivious to any talking. “I’m not a fan of visitors.”

Tugger looks like he was challenged. He steps forward. The only kit, Quaxo, left at his feet following along by his heels. He begins a sweet rumble. “Well, I’m sure I can make you a fan of me.”

Demeter scoffs and keeps her head turned. Tugger extends a hand for her shoulder, to turn her to look at him. The visuals were important when it came to the Rum Tug Tugger. Victoria pops out quick from her cozy spot and swats him away.

Tugger appears truly confused at such an action from Victoria. Her mouth forms a silent hiss and then she disappears again. Demeter decides she really does like Victoria in that moment. What a truly fine kit. Especially as a stunned Tugger looks between Victoria and her brother. Quaxo even watches him with a furrowed brow. Tugger closes his eyes and looks upwards. His nose twitches and his low rumble kick starts back up.

“I’ll leave you alone then.” He says with a different smile. A generous person would describe it as kind. “I’m leaving, kids.” He calls out. The kits scramble from all corners of the den to follow him. They all call out after him. The mass of kits stumbling over each other quickly makes its way out. Quaxo hesitates before leaving for a moment. Victoria hadn’t made a move to leave Demeter. He looks between Tugger and his sister. He preens himself and gives his tail a flick before following Tugger. 

Demeter lowers her head and wraps her tail around Victoria. The white kit shifts and nudges Demeter with her nose, burying her face in the golden fur and moving it around a bit. Demeter tries to offer her own purr to calm Victoria down. Instead of still, she gets a lick, tender and shy, on one of her wounds. A gouge that ran along her side. Older, but never able to fully heal.

Demeter pushes Victoria’s face away. Victoria stops and rests her face back on the older cat. Demeter sighs. She shifts herself and thinks Victoria does so too when she notices that Victoria’s face was now placed on another cut. Maybe just a coincidence.

Lick.

It was not. Demeter prods her away again. Victoria gives her big wide kitten eyes. Like she’s confused and hurt at the denial. Demeter just closes her eyes and eventually Victoria settles her head back down too.

Sniff, sniff. Lick. 

Demeter opens one eye. She could try to stop Victoria again. She could get up and move. The quiet persistence to help her made Demeter’s heart feel like glass. So, she lets Victoria get away with it. The pair of them stay curled up, purring, Victoria licking at her wounds. Demeter had forgotten how nice it was to have someone else help nurse her wounds. The feeling of physical comfort so grounding that Demeter could almost convince herself of the fact that she wasn’t alone in the world. She also had forgotten the sound of her own purr.

“Well, isn’t she such a dear. If Victoria likes you, you won’t be lonely often while staying here.” A wall of blankets says from the entry. Jellylorum dropped them, purple and grey tumbling down. “Of course, not great for a conversation. Her Uncle Bustopher has certainly raised those two right like a gentlecat should.” She steps over the blankets and through the entryway, picking them back up. She brings them in front of Demeter and starts folding. 

“I spoke to Jenny and she said she was already planning on cooking for the ‘Yard tonight. It seems that Skimbleshanks found two bags of fish at the train station.” Jelly huffs and rolls her eyes. “I’m sure it's stolen goods from those two. They got a terrible tongue lashing this morning from Jenny after the stunt they pulled. She set them right, I'll tell you.” She finishes speaking to pile up the blankets, nice and evenly. Demeter watches the older cat appraise her own work and give herself a nod of approval.

“So you’ll just be going to her den for supper, dear. I told her to make two portions for you of fishcakes and gravy. I’m sure you already know that when a meal is being served just follow the kits. Victoria or her brother could probably chaperone you. I’ll come get you if they forget. Now, I must get going because it has been quiet for too long and that means someone is causing trouble.” 

Jellylorum turns on her heel with an assured confidence and is out in a jiffy. Victoria lifts her head like she had only just noticed the other cat. Even without hearing a word she seemed ready to giggle. Demeter rolls her eyes for the little kit, trying to express a comment. Victoria’s mouth opens into a silent squeal and she wiggles with hoarse giggles.

What an oddly kind group of cats. So odd that it borders on silly, she thinks with a flick of her tail. It almost poisons Demeter a little. The concept of a group of cats so near this whole time that ate together, cared for each other, and played in sunshine. It made her feel like the years of pain and screaming in the dark were a foolish choice on her part. If only Munkustrap had found her all those years ago and not him. 

Victoria’s purr starts back up. Perhaps, it’s just easier to accept things as they are. Grieving the death of innocence is such a stupid waste of time. What an idiot move. Demeter chastises herself. She had grown past such childishness long ago.

Demeter lifts her head, The slimy sensation of being watched was back. She curls slightly tighter around Victoria. She sniffs the air and pricks her ears. Where? It’s the pair of not-quite tabbies that she only catches glimpses of. She searches through for their names from the many that Jenny had rattled off. Tantomile and Corciopat. They stare at her from up-high, their yellow eyes like lights in the distance. The pair seem to catch her catching them. They share a look in unison and begin to move, disappearing into the nearest slip of darkness.

“Excuse me, Demeter, ma’am.” A small voice calls. She looks for the owner. It’s the tuxedo kit who clung to Tugger’s heels, Quaxo. “Victoria and I need to go to Jenny’s for supper now.” He comes closer as he talks. Demeter flicks her tail with instinctual warning. The kit hears it loud and clear because he plumps his bum down as fast as he can.

Victoria shifts and stretches. A small lick and the white kit leaves her for her brother. Happily bumping up against him as he struggled to match her level of affection. He is clearly trying to check her over as Victoria moves around him. A good big brother as he does his best caring for her without a word.

“You’re coming to eat too, right? Victoria says you can sit with us if all the cats make you nervous. Family supper at Jenny’s gets chaotic most of the time.” Quaxo offers politely. Victoria had, in fact, said nothing. Demeter raises an eyebrow at the little gentlecat. “Victoria is worried about you.” He offers. 

“Well, I can’t let Victoria down, can I?” Demeter says with good humor as she gets up. “Lead the way, sir.” She extends the title like a compliment to Quaxo. It makes him fluff up proudly. He looks like a proud little king as he leads the two girls. His tail rests on Victoria as she walks along next to him. Demeter allows herself a tail length between herself and the little siblings. 

He leads them through the Junkyard. On the opposite side of the clearing, a den is exploding with light under the setting sun. She can already see the shadows cast by the cats inside. Their chatter warms the air as Quaxo’s little party enters.

“Get out of there, you two.” Jenny snaps from inside. “Sit down before you make a mess.” The Gumbie Cat was trying to create a measure of order. Kits were scurrying about as she swatted at them away. Multitasking as she tried giving a fishcake from her tray to each cat as they milled about.

“We’re here, Mrs Jenny.” Quaxo calls. Demeter pretended to look away as he gathered the air in his chest and readied himself to yell.

“Yes! Thank you, dear.” Jenny makes her way over. She gives each of them a fishcake. “Make sure you come back for your second, sweetheart.” Jenny is gone as quick as she comes over. 

There’s something terrible about a room full of people trying to do their best to stare at you without staring. As if they haven’t seen her enough in the two days. Pouncival and Tumblebrutus jump, climb, and wrestle their way over. Landing in front of them on their backs, panting. 

“Quax! Vic! Come with us!” The pair of them nudge and shove the kits away. “Eat with us!” They cheer. Demeter gives her little friends a wave as they’re pulled away. She looks at her fishcake and back at the happy, conversing, cats. Maybe she can just eat elsewhere. 

She turns to exit the door before hitting a silver chest. 

“Demeter! I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying enough attention. Truly, my fault.” Munkustrap says to her. He takes a quick step away. Demeter wants to apologize for making him have such a reaction. At the same time, it felt good to have a tom made nervous by her.

“It’s alright.” 

“Where were you going?” He looks down at the fishcake in her hands. “Well, come inside. I’m sure there’s somewhere to sit.” He assumes that stance of his. Legs spread, shoulders wide, hand extended. His chin tilted ever so slightly up. 

Demerter (definitely all her) lets herself get corralled back inside. Munkustrap is immediately greeted by a chorus of hellos. He leads her through the crowd, his tail held out behind him. They go slow, as Munk seems to need to personally greet every cat he passes. With a touch or a nudge, or in Jenny’s case her giving him a fishcake, he says hello. Arriving at the far side of the den, he gestures to the empty space along the wall. The only other cats sat down was a black and white tom she recalls seeing and the sleek cat next to him.

“I hope you don’t mind us sitting next to you two, Alonzo.” Munk says genially.

Alonzo laughs and shakes his head. “I’ve always got a seat for you.” Cassandra nods in agreement, still taking delicate little bites.

Munkustrap sits himself down. Demeter stays standing, her own skittishness stopping her from committing to sitting. The grey striped tom pats the ground next to him a few times. 

“It’s good to finally meet you, Demeter. You look well.” Cassandra says cooly as Demeter sits down.

Demeter clears her throat. “Ah, yes, Jelly and Jenny are very concerned over my eating habits.” The golden queen savors the reaction of Munk’s restrained surprise at her speaking politely. It wasn’t her fault she kept snapping at him. He kept doing that thing that made her willpower feel like jelly and the buried tears want to flow like a spring

“If you need anything, ask and I’ll see what I can do.” Cassandra says in an almost purr before returning to her meal. 

“Do you know how much longer you plan on staying? If you need some help where you’re going Skimbleshanks can take you anywhere on his train.” Alonzo asks as he puts an arm around Cassandra.

“I hope to be gone sooner than later.” Demeter offers, unhappy with her own uncertainty. “Thank you for the offer.” She follows politely. It’s been a while since she’s been somewhere where manners and graces held any value.

The black and white tom scratches his ear. “Well, that’s no problem. Munk’ll keep you in good shape.” 

Munkustrap looks up from his fish cake. “Ah, well, of course. I already promised her didn't I?” He says like its nothing much at all

Alonzo laughs. “You’ll never meet a tom truer to his words.” The second-in-command slaps his hand down on Munk’s shoulder and squeezes. “The opposite of his brother. Have you met Tugger?” Demeter nods. “Piece of work, that one. If I had a mouse for every promise he kept to a queen, I'd starve to death.”

Demeter opps to eat rather than comment. The Tugger she had met earlier just seemed like a cocky uncle showing off to kids. She bites into the crispy cake that crunches under her teeth. Slowly chewing, she enjoys the sweet taste of the fish and the warmth of the spices. It was flavourful and warm with that particular flavour that something cooked with love takes on. She leaks out a little groan of delight. 

Munkustrap leans in, not close enough to touch, but close enough his breath warms her ear. “Jenny’s cooking really is fantastic.”

Demeter gives him a little smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten food so good.” 

Munk lights up at that. “I’ll make sure Jenny has seconds for you when you finish.” He promises with a nod to himself. Demeter takes another bite and Munk visibly relaxes as she does so. The Jellicle Protector seemed to have worry to spare, yet Demeter can’t help but feel awful that she’s one of them.

“Jelly and Jenny have already promised me seconds. I think they might hunt me down and feed me if I don’t eat both.” Her voice is quiet in the din of the den

That rewards her with a laugh from all three cats around her. “Looks like you have the two of them down already.” Alonzo says with a snicker. “Jenny used to chase me up and down the trash heaps trying to get me to take a bath. Never could escape.”

Suddenly, there’s more shouting. Munkustrap is on his feet fast. A kit squeals excitedly. 

“Now, now, ladies. Tugger is just here to get some food.” The proud maine coon’s voice is a sweet rumble that cuts through the noise. “I’m not here long.” 

There’s some more shuffling at the door and the same kit makes noise again except this time it's a whine of disappointment. 

“Electra, be polite!” Jenny’s voice snaps from somewhere. 

“No, it’s a fine.” A voice responds. It sounds like jazz music, black licorice, and warmth by a fire. It casts a spell strong enough to pull Demeter to her feet next to Munk. “Tugger and I won’t be long, Mrs Jenny.” Demeter’s feet bring her forwards, like a woman possessed. She shoulders her way through the cats. Distantly, she can hear Munkustrap behind her.

There they stood. The maine coon tom and the fiery red queen next to him. Her face was bemused as she looked down at the kits clinging to Tugger. Demeter’s throat dries at the kind look. She was so tall and beautiful. Never anything left than confidence dictating her posture. Demeter’s hands reach out. Cats that she passes look at her like a space invader. There’s a noise trembling in her throat, waiting to become a word. She stops and it feels like the world stops too.

“Bombie?” Demeter’s voice sounds smaller than the smallest kits.

The red cats eyes fly to her, locking on, They flick back and forth searching for something as they look Demeter over. Something she hopes they find. The red cat disentangles herself from Tugger and takes a step forward over the kittens. Demeter was pulled into warm arms and kisses were planted on her head. Demeter’s chest rattles with a cry. 

“My sweet little Demeter.” Bombalurina whispers. She hugs Demeter so tight, like she could take Demeter into herself and keep her safe. “My precious little sister.” Her voice crackles with the affectionate term. Demeter feels a chin placed atop her head “I am so glad to see you alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to finish setting thing up. There's some bit of fluff I want to write so this story may end up unforseeably longer. Also some short little angst snippets I'm waiting to become a complete thought. Please, leave a review if you'd like. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. You can say hi or leave prompts for me at:  
> Acatpersonapparently.tumblr.com  
> (I'm serious about prompts. I'll write anything you give me "write" now)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I hope you'll be patient with me. I really would like comments if possible. It's been a while so I'm rustier than I would like.  
> Thank you,  
> Acatpersonapparently.tumblr.com


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